


Sam and Dean, Where Are You?

by jinkieswouldyoulookatthis



Category: Scooby Doo - Fandom, Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2018-05-06 16:48:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5424509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jinkieswouldyoulookatthis/pseuds/jinkieswouldyoulookatthis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean wake up to find themselves in a truly strange predicament.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sam sniffled and rubbed at his nose, shifting around on the back seat of the Impala. Although he knew he wouldn't be able to straighten out, hadn't been able to in at least fifteen years, it didn't stop him from trying to find a more comfortable position. The faint sounds of crickets and frogs came, muffled, through the windows from the dark night beyond. Despite the peacefulness of the setting, he couldn't get away from the feeling that something was, well, off. A loud snore from the front seat made him flinch.

"Dean."

Another snore, this one louder than the first, tore through the otherwise quiet night.

"DEAN." Sam groaned loudly.

This time the snore was cut short by a snort and Sam started to relax. He took a deep breath and sank as deeply into the leather bench seat as he could. A rattling snore, twice as loud as the previous three practically shook the car. Sam sat up and reached over the front seat to swat his brother. He'd opened his eyes, to better aim for Dean's forehead, and froze. His arm was stretched out, hovering over Dean, and he was half sitting up. He blinked his eyes furiously trying to clear his vision. When that failed to work, and Dean cranked out another snore, Sam rubbed at his eyes. 

He was in the back seat of the Impala, exactly where he had fallen asleep a couple of hours ago. Dean was stretched out in the front seat, just as Sam expected him to be. But that was where the predictable, normalness of it all ended. Everything seemed less detailed, flatter, yet more vibrant and the edges of everything were starkly defined in black outlines. Sam could feel a knot of familiar panic forming in his gut.

"DEAN!!!" He boomed, loud and deep.

"What, Sam?" Dean grumbled irritatedly. 

"Wake up, Dean. Something's wrong."

Dean rubbed his face as he sat up and opened his eyes, looking around through the windows and yawning as he tried to spot the source of his brother's concern. 

"What's goin' on?"

"What's go...? Dean, we're...we're..."

"What, Sam?"

Sam looked from Dean's face down to his own hands and his pants and shirt. 

"What do you mean, 'What?' We're...cartoons!"

Dean blinked slowly a few times, looking around again as his mind worked. 

"Oh, that. It's just a dream. Go back to sleep." And he closed his eyes and lay back against the passenger door.

Sam stared at his brother in disbelief for a second before the stare turned into a glare and he reached forward and flicked Dean hard, right in the forehead.

"Ow! What the hell, Sam?!"

"Did that feel like a dream?"

Pouting, Dean rubbed at his face while Sam got out of the car. Stretching his long limbs, Sam carefully inspected the area around the Impala. A metallic squeak heralded the opening of the passenger door as Dean swung his legs out and stood up.

"I mean, does this look like a dream, Dean?" Sam spread his arms out and turned around before exasperatedly dropping his hands heavily to his sides.

"Uh, yeah, it does. I have cartoon dreams all the time."

Sam gave his brother a what-the-hell look and shook his head. "Okay. But does this SEEM like a dream to you? Because this doesn't feel like one to me."

"Yeah, good point. You're usually less annoying in my dreams."

Sam pursed his lips and glared at Dean, who just ignored him as he shut the door and examined the car, running his fingertips lightly across her surface. Sam breathed out loudly through his nose, shook his head again and studied the ground at his feet. It looked almost smooth, like it was one solid object with only occasional pieces of detail, like a tuft of grass or a random pebble. He kicked hard with the toe of his boot and pieces formed out of nowhere to scatter across the ground before him, only to disappear when he blinked.

"God, this is weird. Everything looks two dimensional but I can see it in three dimensions. Like the surface facing us is all there is, but as soon as I move, more appears. But then that looks like all there is."

"Cartoon physics, man. Don't think about it too hard. You'll just end up giving yourself a headache." Dean was bouncing up and down slightly while he talked. "Hey, check this out." He started to run around the car, but for the first second or so, despite the fact that his legs were pumping like mad, he didn't move forward right away. When he finally seemed to catch the ground, he shot forward leaving a puff of dust behind him. As he approached Sam, he skidded to an exaggerated stop, his top half swaying slightly with the halted momentum. A huge grin spread across his boyish, freckled features. "Awesome!"

For the first time since waking up, Sam really looked at his brother. Where there should have been an even scattering across his nose and cheeks, Dean had exactly three freckles on each cheek, forming upside down triangles. His eyes were just black dots surrounded by white with black lines offering just the suggestion of lids and lashes. His hair was one solid color, sort of a light brown, with only the edges showing any shape or definition. His shirt also lacked any kind of detail, just a block of solid green that looked like an open button-up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His undershirt just looked solid black and his jeans were a dark grey. 

Sam looked down at himself. His red flannel shirt was now just a plain brick red, the buttons appeared as just little black ovals evenly spaced up the front. He tried unbuttoning one and more of his basic black undershirt came into view, but the rest of the over shirt still looked solid. His hands had five fingers, thankfully, but didn't seem to have fingernails or knuckle creases, only two of the long lines appeared on each palm. He sighed deeply and ran one hand back through his hair, brushing it out of his eyes.

"So, what are you thinking? Gabriel?"

"Seems likely."

"GABRIEL!" 

The brothers waited, looking around expectantly, but nothing happened.

"Come on, you feathered asshole! This's got you written all over it! Show yourself!"

Still nothing happened.

"Cas? If you can hear me, buddy, we could really use your help here...wherever the hell here is." Dean turned in a full circle before shrugging at Sam. "I think we're on our own for now." Just as he finished his stomach gave a loud, gurgling growl. "Whoa!" He clamped a hand across his middle. "Man, I don't know what the hell is going on, but I'm famished! Let's go find someplace to eat. I think better on full stomach anyway."

Since there didn't seem to be anything they could do on the side of road in the dark, Sam agreed. They got back into the car, doors squeaking and banging shut before the engine roared to life. The headlights made perfect cones of light on the road as they pulled back out onto the unlined blacktop of the back country road.

They had been driving for about a half an hour before they started to see the first farm house and it took another half an hour before they rolled into a small town. Streetlights were quickly joined by sidewalks as the houses cropped up closer and closer together. They passed a high school and public library. Then the street became a classic Main Street with a church, town hall, grocery and hardware store, restaurants and shops. Right in the middle of town were a set of train tracks and right on the other side of the train tracks was a diner. It was 50's style with lots of chrome and a bright neon sign. 

The Impala looked right at home parked in one of the spaces out front. Although all of the cars and trucks lacked all but the most basic detailing, it was obvious that the lot was filled with vehicles no newer than the early 70's and Dean entertained himself for several minutes trying to identify what they were. Finally, Sam said he was going inside and Dean followed him, eyes still sweeping the parking lot. When Sam pulled the door open the sounds of Doo-wop music drifted from the nearby jukebox and Dean switched his attention to the inside of the diner, just registering the headlights of a van pulling into the parking lot.

The inside was all white and black tile, red vinyl seats and booths, chrome and more chrome. Glancing around, it became quickly apparent that the joint was jumping, the only empty seats were at the counter, so Sam and Dean took two straight in from the door and sat down.

A waitress with a grey and white beehive hairdo and the name Flo embroidered on her uniform walked up to them on the other side of the counter. Just as she was getting ready to greet them, a group of customers left and another group came in. The waitress smiled and waved.

"Have a wonderful evening, folks! Thanks for stopping in! Oh, hi, kids! Go ahead and take a booth, I'll be right with you." She pulled a pencil out of her hair and her order book from the pocket in her apron and smiled warmly at Sam and Dean. "Welcome to Frank's, boys. What're you hungry for this evening? We've got pretty much everything."

She wet the tip of the pencil with her tongue before jotting down their order. "That'll be up in a jiff!" And she smiled as she walked away.

"Flo seems like she'd make a nice grandma." Dean was beaming.

"How are you this calm...and happy? We're toons, Dean. Why aren't you freaking out?"

"I dunno. Maybe it's that this all feels somehow familiar, doesn't it?"

Sam looked around in disbelief and settled his gaze back on Dean. "Not really, no."

"Huh." Dean shrugged and smiled as Flo sat his malted milkshake down in front of him. "Yes, thank you!" He swirled the straw around a couple of times through the thick drink before taking a long drink. "Mmm! Sam, you should get one of these. Amazing!" After another minute of quiet from Sam while Dean blissed out from the milkshake, Dean finally sighed. 

"I don't know, Sam. I'm having a really hard time convincing myself that any of this is real, you know? I mean, sure, we've been stuck inside TV shows before, we've been literally thrown into a world where we had to pretend to be actors who played us on TV, we've seen kids' drawings come to life and go on killing sprees, we've met a suicidal giant teddy bear and your real life imaginary friend. I think I've reached overload on my weird-shit o'meter and I'm just gonna try to roll with this one. My money is still on Gabriel being behind this, the whole thing is just so...him." 

Flo showed up with their food, a cheeseburger and a club sandwich, both with a side of fries. 

"He'll show eventually. In the meantime, I say we eat, find a place to stay for he night and start trying to figure this all out tomorrow." Dean took the biggest bite of burger that Sam had ever seen, which considering this was Dean was really saying something. His cheeks bulging as he chewed, he practically grunted a, "Mmm!" 

Next thing Sam knew, Dean had caught Flo's eye and said loudly, "I'm gonna need another of these."

"Coming right up, darlin'!"

Dean grinned and took another enormous bite. He didn't talk much as they ate although Sam's brain was already deep into working the problem and Dean knew better than to try to stop him. So as Sam brought up various facts or theories, Dean would chime in with pertinent information or would point out the logic holes and missing pieces. It was often the way they started working a case.

"Well, my goodness!" Flo exclaimed as she collected he empty plates. "I can't believe you actually ate all that! You young fellas and your appetites. I just don't know where you put it all."

"Crazy as it sounds, I think I've still got a little room left. What kind of pie do you all have on the menu today?" Dean said, rubbing his stomach.

"How does apple sound? Joe baked it up fresh not an hour ago."

"Flo, that sounds fantastic! I'll take a piece."

"Can I get one for you too, honey?" She said looking at Sam.

"Ah, no thank you, Ma'am."

She was back in a moment with a small plate with a large slice of warm apple pie. Dean picked up his fork and dug in. 

"Mmm! Who knew cartoon food tasted so good. Here, Sam, taste this." Dean twisted on his stool and held the fork towards Sam's mouth. 

"No, that's okay." Sam frowned at him.

"Come on! Try it."

"No, Dean."

Chuckling to himself, Dean relented and ate the mouthful of pie himself. He stabbed the fork down towards the pie again and was rewarded with a loud, jarring clink as the fork hit bare plate. The whole plate was empty and, other than two tiny little crumbs, looked like it was clean. 

"What the hell happened to my pie?!"

"Like, sorry, man! Scooby can't resist the pie here." Dean's eyes went wide, he knew that voice. He turned on his stool to see a tall, skinny, red-headed young man in brown flared pants and a baggy, green v-neck tee shirt standing next to him, an apologetic smile on his face. A large brown dog sat next to him. "Say you're sorry, Scoob."

"Raw re!" But he didn't look very sorry to Dean.

"Zoinks." Dean heard Sam say quietly behind him.


	2. Sam and Dean Meet the Mystery Gang

“Why do you have a dog in a diner? Isn't that against health codes or something?” Dean asked, gruffly. Although Sam could hear the teasing tone buried in the comment, he figured Shaggy probably wouldn't pick up on it.

The young man just looked confused by the question. “Um, like, he goes everywhere with me. He's my best friend." As if that was the only logical answer. "Here, let me make it up to you. Flo! Can we get another piece of pie out here? Put it on my tab," he said loudly enough that the waitress could hear him from where she stood at the far end of the counter.

“You mean Fred’s tab?” Flo cocked her eyebrow at him.

Shaggy shrugged, “Toe-may-toe, toe-mah-toe.”

She put a hand on her hip. “Perhaps we should call the whole thing off?”

He grinned sappily at her. "If we call the whole thing off, we'll have to part and that might break my heart."

Flo rolled her eyes and sighed as she walked towards the pie plate at the far end of the counter. The young man's smile spread across his scruffy face.

"She loves me." He said confidently before holding his hand out towards Dean. "Name's Shaggy, you've already met Scooby Doo." 

Dean couldn't help smiling as he shook Shaggy's hand. "I'm Dean and this is Sam."

"Like, wow! That's quite the firm grip you've got there, Dean." Shaggy said, shaking out his fingers before extending his hand to Sam, who just shook hands silently, trying to wrap his brain around what he was seeing. Flo sat a new plate of pie down behind Dean and he saw Scooby lick his lips.

"Ah! Ah! Don't even think about it!" Dean said pointing a finger at the large dog.

Scooby gave a nervous little laugh and backed slowly away.

"Don't mind Scoob, he thinks with his stomach." Just then a loud growl rumbled out of the lanky young man's belly causing him to laugh and rub his middle. "Speaking of which, my stomach just reminded me that I still have two slices of double cheeseburger pizza waiting for me." 

He half turned to walk away but stopped and looked back at them. "Why don't you two come over, I'll introduce you to the gang?"

Shaggy gestured to a big round booth in the corner where they saw Scooby squeeze his way under the table before popping up in the middle of the horseshoe shaped bench a second later. Dean could see the bangs and dark rimmed glasses of a diminutive brunette facing them on Scooby’s left, a broad shouldered blond young man with his back to them on Scooby’s right, and the copper tresses of a purple clad young lady sitting next to him. Dean turned and scooped up his plate of pie and fork as he stood up.

“Sounds great!”

Sam still seemed in shock and simply stood up to follow them across the diner. When Shaggy reached the booth, the brunette slid out and stood up to let him in next to Scooby. She was reading a book as she got up so she didn't see Sam until she was a inch or two away from him. "Oh!" She looked up and up until her head was tilted almost as far back as it would go. "Jinkies!" A bright blush spread across her cheeks and nose before she looked back down at the book she was clutching tightly.

Shaggy sat down and slid over next to Scooby who was busy eating a plate of hamburgers. “Hey, gang, this is Dean and Sam. Dean, Sam, this is,” starting with the red head he pointed to each as he said their names. “…Daphne, Fred and Velma. Scootch in, they’re gonna join us.”

Velma sat back down and worked her way over to Shaggy, still blushing and pretending to be very interested in rearranging the dishes on the table as Sam sat down next to her.

Daphne did a subtle appraisal of the newcomers before smiling warmly and batting her eyes. “Dean, was it?” she asked as she slid back closer to Fred. Dean sat down in the space she had made and grinned at her, gently shaking her hand.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Daphne.” 

Suddenly there was a large hand being held practically in his face, causing him to lean back a little before focusing on Fred and letting go of Daphne's hand. Judging by how tall Shaggy was and how much of the bench seat he took up, Dean estimated that Fred was about his same height and build. As the two men clasped hands they both seemed to be gauging the other's strength, gripping hands firmly. A slight narrowing of the eyes the only other indication that the cordial smiles might not be completely sincere. But the handshake only lasted a second and then Fred was extending his hand to Sam to repeat the ritual. Dean noticed with a smirk that Sam's hand seemed to engulf Fred's and Fred noticed too. Velma, who was still busying herself with stacking and moving the stuff on the table, knocked a soda over onto Shaggy's plate, soaking his last piece of pizza with soda.

Fred withdrew his hand. Sam grabbed a stack of napkins from the end of the table and passed them to Velma

"Oh, no! Shag, I'm sorry!"

"Don't worry about it, Velma. The only thing better than a slice of double cheeseburger pizza is a slice of double cheeseburger cherry cola pizza." And he picked up the soaking wet piece of pizza and took a huge bite. "Mmmm!!! Still fizzy!"

Sam and Velma made almost identical looks of disgusted dismay, complete with matching scrunched noses.

"So, Sam, Dean, what brings you two to these parts? Just passing through?" Fred asked.

"In a manner of speaking. Hunting monsters tends to keep us traveling a lot of the time." Dean said as he casually started eating his pie.

"Hunting monsters?" Fred, Velma said at the same time.

"Ronsters!?!" Scooby echoed.

"Mmmhmmm." Dean confirmed between mouthfuls of pie.

"Like, real monsters?" Shaggy asked with a gulp.

"No. Of course not. Dean's just joking." Sam said with a glare across the table.

"Obviously." Velma said, looking up and between Sam and Dean. "Because there's no such thing as real monsters."

"I dunno, people can be pretty monstrous sometimes." Dean said.

"We've, uh, solved a few cases that had the police stumped. But we mostly just sight see." Sam said.

"Hey, Sam, remember when we saw the largest ball of twine?"

Sam smiled at the memory and added, "Yeah, and the second largest."

"Which I still say was bigger." Dean pointed at his brother with his fork before diving it back into his rapidly disappearing pie.

"So? You two travel around solving mysteries?" Fred asked.

"Just like us!" Shaggy added.

"Yeah?" 

Fred nodded as he evaluated these newcomers.

"That's cool. You working any cases now?"

"Not since we unmasked Mr. Jenkins trying to scare people away from the old sawmill so he could pan for gold. That was about a month ago. It's been pretty quiet since then."

"Thankfully." Shaggy added.

"Reah!"

"So, Dean," Daphne said, "what was the last mystery you solved?"

They sat and talked, comparing cases, Sam and Dean altering details so it would seem as if each monster they took down was just a human, that they turned over to the authorities instead of killing. 

Sam kicked Dean once, under the table, when his brother's flirting with Daphne became so painfully obvious that Fred set his soda down a little too loudly. Dean shrugged it off but sat up a little straighter, stopped leaning quite so close to her.

The conversation wandered, they discussed various things, including fun things to do around town, lame seeming college kid type stuff from the late 60s, barn dances, the malt shop, and where might be a good place to stay in town. 

"The Hotel Elkwood is the only place, unless you want to drive all the way out to Danvers." Fred answered matter of factly.

Scooby gulped, "Rotel Relkrood?!" 

Sam raised his eyebrows, still not entirely at ease with a talking dog, even if he was a cartoon. Sam wasn't entirely at ease with being a cartoon himself, for that matter. But knowing the canine's reputation for cowardice, his interest was peaked.

As was Dean's, who asked, "Was that the big, Victorian place down Ridgemont Street? We passed it on our way into town."

"That's it. Only hotel in town."

"It looked..."

"Raunted!" Scooby finished.

"I was going to say that it looked a little rundown. It's open?"

"Scooby," Velma piped up, "it's not haunted, there's no such thing as ghosts." She turned to look at Dean, pushing her glasses up her nose as she added, "It may be in need of renovations, but it's not haunted."

"Plus, like, it is the only hotel in town, so even though it's definitely haunted, what choice do they have?" Shaggy added.

"Rhey rould ray rith rus." Scooby said, looking hopefully to Shaggy, who shrugged and looked at Sam and Dean.

"Like, sure! You two are welcome to crash with us."

"Um..." Sam glanced at Dean, not sure how his brother would react to the invitation. Thankfully, Dean didn't seem to be going for it.

"I think we'll take our chances with the hotel. Thanks anyway."

"In fact, it's been a long day, we should probably go get checked in, right Dean?"

"Yeah." They both slid out of the booth and stood up.

"It was, uh, nice meeting you all." Sam said.

"You too!"

"Reah! Rou roo!"

"It sure was." Daphne said with a long look at Dean.

"The pleasure was all mine, Daphne." Dean said with a grin and a wink before extending his hand towards Fred. "Fred?"

Fred shook his hand. "See you around."

Sam followed Dean away from the table. Glancing back as they left the diner, he shook his head. Every time he thought their lives couldn't get any weirder, the universe seemed to take it as a dare.

"Holy shit! Sam! Look!"

Sam's attention snapped to his brother, looking for danger. But Dean was excitedly walking across the parking lot towards a familiar looking vehicle.

"Sam! It's the Mystery Machine! It's the actual Mystery Machine!" Dean almost squeaked as he reached over and punched Sam's shoulder.

"Ow! What the hell?"

"It's the goddamn Mystery Machine, Sam!"

"Yeah, I see that, Dean."

"Oh, wow." Dean ran his hand gently along the side of the van, tracing the fanciful lines of the paint job, a huge grin on his face. After a moment, he patted the van one last time and backed away towards the Impala. "It's been a hell of a day so far. A hell of a day."

They climbed into their car and drove down Ridgemont to the Elkwood. It was a huge, three story, Victorian mansion with a deep porch that wrapped all the way around the first floor. There were at least two different towers, one round, the other square, and lots of windows and quirky angles set into the roof. The paint was grey and peeling, a few shutters hung crooked, falling off their hinges. But there was a dim lamp lit on the porch and light shone through the windows around the front door. A hand painted sign by the street had a vacancy plaque hanging lopsided below it.

They parked and got their duffle bags, flatly animated but sitting in the impala's trunk right were they should be, and walked up the front steps which creaked and groaned beneath their boots. A bell jingled as they opened the door and walked across a worn, wine-red carpet in the darkly wood paneled lobby. A matching, dark wooden, reception desk, complete with a wall of cubbies behind and an oversized registry book was opposite the door. Dean gave the bell a solid slap and was rewarded with a loud ding. The lights flickered and the brothers exchanged a look. Dean hit the bell again and the lights flickered again. He hit the bell a third time.

"Yeah, yeah! I heard ya the first time! Give a fella a chance, would ya?" An old man, balding and fat, shuffled out of the room behind the desk suddenly, making Sam and Dean jump slightly. "What do you want?"

The lights flickered again. Dean looked from the light to Sam back to the old man. "A room?"

"A double ok?"

"Sure." The old man glared at him. "Yes...sir." The man harrumphed, but seemed satisfied.

"Sign in." And he gestured at the book before turning and retrieving a key from one of the cubbies behind him. Dean scribbled in the book. The old man turned it around when Dean finished. "Alright, Mr. Kasem? That'll be $20 for tonight or $35 for two nights if you pay up front."

Dean reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his wallet. He flipped through the nondescript green bills. "We're not sure how long we'll be in town, is it ok if we pay night to night?" He held out one bill with the number twenty visible in 

"It's your money, son, do what you want." The old man snatched the money and handed Dean the key, dangling from a large, black fob. "Room eight, up the stairs, end of the hall on the left."

"Thank you." Dean said as he took the key and he and Sam turned towards the stairs. Dean was about halfway up when he stopped suddenly, Sam almost ran into him. "What do you wanna bet this next step squeaks?"

"What? Why?" Sam leaned around his brother to look at the step in question. It was obviously different than the other stairs, a more muted, dull brown than the others, and looked like it didn't quite line up right. Dean stepped on it and it bowed down slightly in the middle with a distinct creak. 

"Ha!" Dean barked, "I knew it! Keep your eyes open for secret passages, Sam."

Sam just shook his head and followed Dean the rest of the way to their room. Dean unlocked the door, which creaked open, and the lights in the hall flickered when he flipped the light switch on.

"Well, the wiring is crap." Dean announced as they each threw their bag down on a bed. The bed Sam chose, sagged visibly.

"Great." Sam sighed.


	3. Sam and Dean in Hanna-Barbera Land

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So they're cartoons, doesn't mean they aren't still Winchesters doing Winchester things.

Birds were chirping. 

It had started off quietly, maybe one or two birds a little ways away, their song drifting in through the open window. Sam vaguely remembered Dean getting up at some point last night to fight with the window sash, finally getting it to open and stay open, because it had been unbearably musty and stuffy in the old hotel room. But it must be morning, Sam thought, as more birds joined in the chorus outside. He rolled over and buried his face into the pillow. Just a few more minutes of sleep, that's all he needed, before he had to get up and deal with the next round of bizzaro bullshit his life had thrown at him. 

The chirping and cheeping, peeping and whistling from outside increased. Was there a tree right outside the window? Some of those birds sounded close, too loud to tune out. A frustrated groan from the other bed told him that Dean was having about as much luck sleeping as Sam.

"CAW!"

Sam nearly jumped out of his skin at the sudden sound, sitting up and spinning around to face the source of the cry. A huge black bird was staring at him from the windowsill.

"What the fuck?!" came a surprised exclamation from Sam's right.

Sam looked over just as Dean uncocked his pearl handled pistol and let his arm drop down to rest on the twisted sheets. He hadn't even sat up, had simply rolled over with his gun aimed at the window, and was now flat on his back, breathing out a loud breath.

"It's just a bird." Sam said.

"CAW!" The crow (or was it a raven? The flat, overly simplified animation style made it hard to tell) called again in a nagging tone.

Dean aimed the gun at it again. "I will shoot you."

The crow cocked its head to one side and stared at Dean, as if considering how serious a threat he might be, before, "CAW!"

"That's it!" Dean shouted as he got up and took a step towards the window. The bird's eyes got impossibly wide and it flew off in a rush of dark feathers and wind. "Yeah! That's right! Get out of here!" Dean called after it.

Sam swung his legs out of bed, resting his bare feet on the floor as he hunched over, elbows propped on his knees, head down, eyes closed, and combed his fingers roughly through his hair, trying to scrub everything off like a bad dream. With his eyes closed, everything felt almost normal.

"Well, shit. I'm up now." Dean grumbled.

Sam didn't look up but he opened his eyes and stared at his feet. At least he had the proper number of toes, instead of only four or something, even if they were lacking in detail. Wiggling them against the wooden floorboards, he marveled at how he could feel texture that he couldn't see. The boards were smooth, well-worn with time, but he could still feel the long lines of the grain, as well as some grit, like a fine scattering of sand, indicating that the room wasn't often vacuumed. 

"I'm going to take a quick shower and then how about we go grab a bite and try and figure out where we are?" Dean said as he walked into the bathroom.

Sam nodded and muttered a quiet, "yeah." The bathroom door clicked loudly closed. He scratched at an itch on his calf. He could feel the hairs on his leg against his fingers even though his leg looked like it should be clean shaven. "This is so weird."

Muffled slightly by the closed door, Sam heard Dean sigh, "oh thank god!" and he chuckled, guessing what his brother had just verified. Although he was surprised that Dean hadn't thought to check his animated anatomical correctness the night before, it had been one of the first things Sam had done. 

"Dude! How are you just checking *that* now?"

"What? Man, I checked that when we woke up in the Impala yesterday. Are you kidding?" The bathroom door opened again and Dean held up a small bottle. 

"Tiny shampoo. Everything here is so fucked up and old fashioned, I wasn't sure they'd have any." He sniffed at the bottle as he shut the door again.

"Mm! Smells good, too. Citrusy. Nice!"

***

After grabbing breakfast at Frank's Diner, with no sign of the Mystery Machine or the gang this time, they backtracked to the library they had passed on their way into town the previous night. 

The rumble of the Impala's engine cut off as Dean put it in park and took the key out of the ignition. The doors screeched open, the suspension squeaked as the brothers got out, and then the doors creaked and banged shut. Dean pocketed his keys as they climbed the white marble steps leading up to the heavy double doored entrance of the old brick library. 

Sam opened the door and Dean followed him inside. It was dark, compared to outside, and it smelled of old books and well-used public spaces, like metal, wood and leather, sweat and dust, Sam breathed it all in and relaxed a bit. Libraries across the country were all so similar in the way they smelled, even here, wherever here was, that it felt like home to him. This was familiar territory. 

They passed by the large, wooden, librarian's desk, behind which sat the most librarian of librarians that either of them had ever seen. She was an older woman with grey hair pulled up in a tight bun and horn-rimmed glasses with a decorative chain that would hold them suspended around her neck when they weren't perched on her beak-like nose. She had on a high collared, white shirt under a beige cardigan. She had a pinched, sour sort of look about her and though she was busily stamping book cards and then sorting books onto a cart for reshelving, she still managed to give a stern look over her glasses as Dean passed by, as if she somehow expected trouble from him. 

"Um? Yeah, no computers." Sam stopped before the immense card catalog and turned in a slow circle, scanning the main room.

"Fucking figures." Dean said with a glance back to the librarian, either checking that she hadn't heard him or casting blame in her general direction for the lack of modern tech, Sam wasn't sure.

"No problem. We'll ah...just do it the old fashioned way." Sam faced the card catalog drawers again. "We'll just start with...um..."

Dean slapped him softly on the back. "Local info.! I'm going to go see what I can find out about this world while you see what kind of lore there is about, well...anything not natural." And he walked off towards a sign that conveniently said *Local History*.

"Yeah. Ok. The supernatural." Sam said, his brow furrowed and lips pressed tightly together as he picked a drawer to look through. "A...a? Angels. What do they have on angels?" 

A couple of hours later Dean wearily shut another book and added it to the stack next to him on one of the library's long tables. He sighed, not for the first time, and rubbed between his eyes.

"Still nothing?" Sam asked, already knowing the answer.

"Nada. I mean, I've read some boring, uneventful history in my time, and you know how much I just love research," a distinct, and entirely unnecessary note of sarcasm in his voice, "but this is the vaguest, least helpful library I have ever been in. There are no coherent details in any of these." He waved at the books he'd gone through. 

"The dates, when there are dates, don't line up, the maps are all disjointed and seem like they are completely random and unrelated. I can't cross reference anything, find any common points, nothing. It's like it's all..."

"Made up?" Sam filled in.

"Yeah! Or set dressing." Dean said. "I mean, this one doesn't even have any real words in it, it's just wavy lines that kind of look like writing if you squint your eyes. What's up with that?"

This time Sam sighed as he muttered, "same." He sat back in the uncomfortable wooden chair and brushed his hair back from his eyes. "I think we are actually stuck in a cartoon, Dean. There is no actual history because it was never written, like they didn't bother with backstory. Or like with the animation, there is just enough detail to give the impression of something or if the detail is important at that moment, but that's it."

"Shit. Now what?" 

Sam shrugged in response, his mind still trying to cope with the complete and utter lack of lore or any viable information to work with.

"Sam? Dean?"

They both looked up, turning towards the sound of their names. Velma was walking over with an armful of books.

"Hi."

"Hey."

"I thought that was you two. Gee!" She said as her eyes landed on the piles of books around them. "Researching something?"

"Yeah." Sam said.

"Not successfully." Dean added and Sam shot him a look.

"What are you trying to find? I spend a fair amount of time here, maybe I can help?"

"Oh, well, um..." Sam glanced at Dean who just shrugged as if to say why not. "I don't know if..."

But Velma had glanced up at the clock on the wall behind them. "Jinkies! Is that the time? Sorry to offer help and then split on you, but Fred and Daphne said they were going to pick me up in just a few minutes and I still need to check these books out."

"Oh?" Dean asked. "What were y'all going to go do?" He got up and started to walk with Velma towards the librarian's desk. Sam quickly followed.

"Since the weather's been so dreary lately, we thought we'd take advantage of the sunshine today and go swimming. Shaggy said he'd bring food for a cookout." She paused, glanced at Sam quickly before continuing in a rush, "Hey! Why don't you two join us?"

"Uh..."

"We'd love to!" Dean said with a smile. 

"Gee, that'll be nifty!" She said and then gave them directions to the beach as she handed her books to the librarian. When she was done, books back in hand, there was a honk from outside. 

"That'll be Freddie. See you two there!" And she hurried off.

Sam smacked Dean's shoulder.

"Ow! What?"

"Why are we going to the beach? We need to figure out how to get out of here." Sam said.

"Yeah, exactly, Sam, we need to get out of here. And how are we going to do that, huh? Researching's a bust, so now we talk to the locals, it's what we do. Do you really think that ending up in classic Hanna-Barbera land and running into Scooby fucking Doo is just a coincidence?" 

Sam made a face, he was frustrated but Dean had a good point. "Yeah, right. Ok, fine."

"Besides," Dean said as he pushed open the library door and walked out into the sunshine, "I am not passing up a chance to see Daphne in a bikini."

***

As luck would have it, they found a shop on the way to the beach that sold kitschy souvenirs and seashells along with bathing suits, beach towels, sunglasses and even a few surfboards. Dean stopped and insisted that they both get swim trunks and towels. By the time they pulled off the road again, at the beach, they could see the gang there, already enjoying themselves. 

Shaggy and Scooby were down near the water, throwing a frisbee back and forth in the shallow waves. Shaggy was in brown, striped shorts and a loose green tank, his long, pale, scrawny arms and legs making him seem even more gangly than usual. Scooby, looking like he was having the time of his life, splashed through the water after the flying disc to catch it in his mouth, only to stand up and throw it back to Shaggy with his anthropomorphized front paws.

Closer, up where the sand was powdery dry, Fred and Daphne were playing volleyball. Fred had on just a pair of blue trunks while Daphne, as Dean had anticipated, was sporting a teeny, weeny, purple bikini that showed off her perfectly drawn figure. Dean slowed down as she dove into the sand to hit the ball back over the net, and he stopped walking entirely when she stood back up brushing sand off of herself, shaking it out of her top.

"Jeez, Dean, close your mouth." Sam muttered.

Dean blinked, snapped his mouth shut and shot a glare at his brother. Focusing past Sam, Dean's eyes caught on the familiar figure of Velma, sitting a little ways away on a blanket reading a book. Although her bathing suit was more modest than her red-headed friend's, it was still a two piece, predictably orange, and accented her curves in a surprisingly appealing way. Dean felt his mouth open that time. "Oh! Well hello. I, uh, I tell you what, Sammy, why don't you go, uh, question that local over there." He nodded his head in Velma's direction. "See what kind of info you can get out of her. While I, uh, talk with Daphne."

"Dean. I..." Sam looked in the direction Dean had indicated, and stopped for a second. Sounding slightly defeated but less annoyed than he had before, he cleared his throat and continued, "yeah, ok. You go talk with Daphne...and Fred." He added pointedly before walking off.

Dean chose to ignore him, his eyes fixed back on the shapely redhead as he jogged over to the side of the net. "So, who's winning?"

"Dean! Glad you could join us!" Fred said as he served the ball to Daphne, who hit it easily, sending it up and over the net in a sharp arc. It was Fred's turn to dive for it this time, and he hit the sand hard with a loud, "oof!" The ball went careening into the net instead of over it. 

"I did." Daphne beamed, answering Dean's question. "Good game, Freddie."

"Yeah, you too, Daph." Fred stood up, brushing sand off his hands.

"Rematch?" She asked sweetly.

Fred glanced at her then gave his chin a scratch as he looked around. "Tempting as that may be, I better get started gathering some firewood if we want to get a bonfire going before dark. Maybe Dean can give you a run for your money?"

Dean smiled, looked at Daphne and shrugged. "I've actually never really played. Maybe you can give me some pointers?" He finished with a cocky grin.

Daphne smiled back at him. "Sure thing!"

The afternoon passed quickly, Dean flirting, heavily, with Daphne who seemed to just eat up the attention, while Fred busied himself gathering driftwood to make a fire. Sam and Velma discussed the book she was reading, Sam enthralled, watching words appear from the otherwise swiggley lines as she turned pages and talked about various points. As the sun neared the horizon, Fred got the fire going and Shaggy retrieved a cooler from the back of the Mystery Machine. Everyone gathered around to roast hot dogs and marshmallows on long sticks, Shaggy and Scooby the only two to do both at the same time. It was full dark when they doused the fire and packed everything up to head back to town.

Ten minutes down the road, the back of the Mystery Machine visible at the edge of the impala's head lights, Sam was explaining what he'd figured out after talking with Velma.

"We were basically right about the whole book thing. We can't read books here the same way we would in the real world because they don't have information in them unless they need to, like, only if it's critical to the plot. But if you really need the information it will be there."

"As long as it matters to the story." Dean added.

"Exactly." Sam said.

"So, if we need to know it and, like, the timing is right then it'll be there, otherwise..."

"Otherwise it'll be a book full of incoherent fragments or illegible scribbles." Sam nodded. "And, Velma is, unsurprisingly, convinced that there is no such thing as monsters, or ghosts, or the supernatural."

"Well, yeah, this is classic 'Where Are You?' Scooby Doo, so it's pre-Zombie Island. Why would she believe...Whoa!" Dean exclaimed as the Mystery Machine suddenly swerved ahead of them and screeched to stop. Dean nailed the brakes and narrowly avoided a collision, stopping at an angle to so that the impala's head lights lit up the side of the van, revealing a comically flat tire. Fred climbed out to examine the problem.

"Like, isn't that just our luck?" Shaggy said as he and the rest of the gang got out of the van. 

"Oh it's just a flat tire." Fred said. "Give me a hand and we'll have it fixed in no time."

"I can help with that." Dean said, shutting the driver's door of the Impala. Sam's door shut a second later and they both joined the group.

"Gee, thanks, Dean. The jack is in the back, Shaggy'll show you where it is. I'll get the spare." Fred walked around to the front of the vehicle.

Shaggy went around and opened one of the rear doors, rummaged around for a moment, the sound of things clinking and clanking together as he moved them, before dragging an old fashioned, overly simplified, jack out. "Man, am I glad you're here. I'm all thumbs and the last time I tried to help Fred change a tire I almost lost one."

"Reah! Re rawlmost rost a rum!" Scooby added with a shiver, like the thought still really bothered him.

"But, you know what they say, almost only counts with horseshoes and hand grenades." And Shaggy gave a double thumbs up and giggled.

"Riiight." Dean said as he lifted the jack easily and walked back around the van.

Soon the rest of them were standing around, trying to stay out of the light so Fred and Dean could see what they were doing. Shaggy and Scooby were quickly finishing off the rest of the food from the cooler, which magically seemed to contain all the fixings for two huge Dagwood-like sandwiches. Daphne was admiringly watching the two men work on changing the tire while Sam and Velma stood, somewhat awkwardly, next to her, not sure what to do to help. 

Suddenly, Sam's head turned to the side, his expression instantly growing serious. "Do you hear that?" He asked Velma quietly.

She turned her head away from the group, looked behind them at the dark, deserted countryside, and asked, "hear what?"

Sam just held up a finger for her to wait. There was a long pause and then, off a little ways from the edge of the road came the sound of scraping. Both Velma and Sam turned their backs to the lit up scene on the road and stared out in the direction of the sound.

"What is that?" Velma asked in a hushed voice.

Sam listened for another second as the sound repeated. "Digging."

"Digging? Way out here? In the dark?" Daphne had turned and joined in the conversation. "Jeepers, why would someone be doing that?"

Sam shrugged but didn't say anything else, he was busy trying to pinpoint the direction and distance of the sound, his mind racing through a complex risk analysis fed by a lifetime of hunting dangerous creatures in the dark.

"Well," Velma clicked on a flashlight, "there's only one way to find out." Without a backwards glance, she strode determinedly towards the edge of the road, towards the sound.

"Um? Hey!" Sam glanced back at the group and caught Dean's eye, gave him a look to let him know what was going on, and then hurried after Velma. "You shouldn't go alone."

"I'm not, you're coming with me." She said matter-of-factly.

They pushed through some waist high bushes and then plunged into pitch darkness under a thick copse of trees. Here and there were beams of bluish moonlight spilling through the branches, but otherwise all they could see was the perfect cone of light from Velma's flashlight, which she kept aimed on the ground a little ways ahead of them. They walked quietly, as the sound of a shovel scraping dirt led them on. Soon enough they came to the edge of an opening in the woods, moonlight brightening a thick patch of high brambles. The sound seemed to be coming from the other side of the clearing.

Sam held his finger to his lips and then pointed around the right side of the bushes. Velma nodded and tiptoed in the direction he'd indicated. They'd only gone a few steps when a hooded figure, glowing faintly green, popped up out of the brambles. It's sunken, black eyes and skeletally thin face leered at them as a high-pitched, kinda of tinny sounding cackle erupted from it.

Sam and Velma both skidded to a stop just as the thing came charging out at them! 

"Run!" Sam yelled as he stepped between her and the attacker, one hand on her back, urging her to turn and go back the way they'd come.

"Jinkies!" Velma shouted as she turned and ran, Sam right on her heels.

***

"There, good as new!" Fred said as he tossed the jack into the back of the van and shut the door. "Thanks for the help, Dean. Say, where did Velma and Sam go?"

"They heard a noise and went to go check it out." Daphne replied.

"They've been gone for a while, maybe we should go find..." Dean was suddenly cut off by a loud cackling coming from the woods that made them all jump.

"Zoinks! Like, what is that?" Shaggy cringed back towards the van, clutching at Scooby Doo as they both started to shake.

Dean took a step towards the sound. "Sam!"

Sam and Velma ran out of the woods, Sam shouting, "go!"

"What is it?"

"I don't know! Let's get out of here!" Sam yanked open one of the impala's back doors and pushed Velma inside. Fred helped Daphne climb into the Mystery Machine, Shaggy and Scooby were nowhere to be seen. 

"Dean, drive!" And Sam dove into the car and slammed the door just as Dean got in and started it up. A ghostly figure could now be seen in the woods, getting larger by the second as it closed in on them. Dean punched his foot down on the gas peddle and the impala peeled out behind the Mystery Machine. Looking back, Sam saw the figure stop in the road where they had been, it was shaking its fist at them as they drove off.


End file.
